Spoiler Alert
by Starrika
Summary: Darcy Lewis has been nominated by Agent Coulson to bring Steve Rogers up to date on what he missed in the last seventy years. iPods, Cubs jokes, and Slurpees are pretty swell. Falling in love with one of the spandex crew isn't. Begins pre-movie.
1. Prologue

A/N: Although this fic does begin pre-movie, it will eventually catch up to the plot of the Avengers film. Right now, it centers on Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster's assistant from _Thor_, and her interactions with Steve Rogers of _Captain America_. While it's not necessary to have seen those films to read this fic, it might help in identifying some of the characters.

A very big thank you to the betas who helped me with this prologue: Rosawyn, KeitorinNara, and You May Call Me Goddess - Bitch Goddess.

* * *

Steve was watching the baseball game, looking at the television screen with rapt attention, face still showing a touch of wonder. He and Coulson had stopped speaking immediately when she entered the room and Darcy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She crossed the room, cutting behind the couch to grab an orange from the bowl near the bar. She gave a sideways glance at the tequila but it was only two – not really socially acceptable to start drinking. Well, unless you were Tony.

"Spoiler alert, Cap. The Dodgers moved to L.A.," Darcy said. "You'll have to start rooting for the Mets. Only assholes root for the Yankees."

"I root for the Yankees," Coulson said mildly.

Darcy spread her hands in an 'I-told-you-so-gesture' and Steve cracked a grin. "Don't worry though, Cubs still suck. Nothing's changed there – haven't won the Series since '45."

At that, Steve laughed genuinely and Darcy gave him a salute with the fruit before leaving the room. Neither noticed the look on Coulson's face.

* * *

"How would you like a raise?"

Darcy looked up from the computer, narrowing her eyes at Coulson. "That sounds ominous."

He shook his head, but it didn't do much to dispel Darcy's suspicions. He was no Fury, but Coulson made her fairly uncomfortable as well. Darcy never knew when they'd decide to MIB this whole thing and she'd end up a waitress in a diner somewhere with a giant gap missing from her memory.

"I have a job offer for you," he said.

"I already have a job. With Jane," Darcy replied.

Coulson frowned slightly. "We both know your job consists of playing Angry Birds, typing notes, and fetching Ms. Foster Pop-Tarts from the vending machines at regular intervals. That's not exactly a job."

"Touché," Darcy said. "So what's this offer? I do have school, you know." She was still in school, although now at NYU since Jane had moved her operations to New York for the time being. Darcy knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had something to do with that – she wasn't a slouch academically, but there was probably some string pulling to get her transferred in.

"You have to sign an NDA to see it."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Do I ever joke with you?"

Darcy rolled her eyes at that. "Okay, let's see it then."

The NDA was freaking huge. Ten minutes later, Darcy was muttering "blah blah blah" under her breath and initialing each page as she skimmed through the provisions. "Seriously, if this is some job offer to turn me into a badass assassin like Natalia or Natasha or whatever her name is, I don't want it."

"It is not. And we'll need to discuss exactly how you became privy to that information."

"Well, good. And uh, Tony has a big mouth," Darcy added, signing the last page of the agreement. She felt a small tinge of sympathy as Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he had a migraine coming on.

"And this is the offer," Coulson added, pulling a stack of papers from his briefcase that was three times the size of the NDA.

"No shit," Darcy replied, actually taking the time to read what was set in front of her. It was still legalese but who only knew what they were trying to sneak in there. "You can come back in an hour, if you want," she murmured, only half joking. It was a bit uncomfortable, having him just sit there watching her read.

"I'm afraid not. Those documents aren't permitted to leave my sight."

"Sorry, dude. Not a speed reader," Darcy warned him, noticing he had started fiddling with his phone as she started to read. Forty minutes later, she sat back in her chair, feeling like she had a headache coming on herself. "It took you this much paper to say 'show Cap what he missed in the last seventy-so years'?"

There was a quirk to the side of his mouth that made Darcy think he had almost cracked a smile. "Yes," he said succinctly.

"Why me?" she replied, still wary.

He didn't answer right away. "You made him laugh," he finally admitted. "I talked Fury into this, so I'd prefer you not fuck things up."

Darcy blinked and that quirk in the corner of his mouth turned into a small, genuine smile. "Are you like, a pod person? Because this is a little freaky," she replied.

"Ms. Lewis," he prompted.

"I - sure. As long as it won't take away from me helping Jane or class."

"We're looking into finding an assistant for Ms. Foster as we speak. While Ms. Foster is rather invested in having you as an assistant, she does need someone with an actual grasp of her studies, particularly now that Dr. Selvig is working elsewhere."

Darcy winced a bit at that, thinking how hard Jane had taken Erik's move. "Um, are you going to tell Jane?"

"You will still be Ms. Foster's assistant, at least for those things that are currently in your purview. Notes and Pop-Tarts," he said, giving her a sardonic grin. After a moment, he added frankly, "I want you on this project, Lewis."

"So, what, a few hours a day I watch documentaries with Steve and answer questions?"

"You've got quite a bit of latitude. All we ask is that you hit the highlights with a minimal amount of psychological damage. To be honest, it isn't as if we have specialists in this sort of situation and Fury is less than pleased after their initial plans with Rogers went to hell in ten minutes," he said. "You made him laugh, Lewis."

"Okay, stand up routine about the seventies. That practically writes itself," Darcy replied, gesturing as if she were checking something off the list.

Coulson shook his head, his face showing more humanity than Darcy had ever seen. "He's a hero, Lewis. A real hero. He deserves more than a mindfuck."

Darcy nodded slowly. She'd heard the gossip about how things had gone down when Steve awoke. She hadn't realized Coulson cared so much. "I'm in," she added after a moment, taking the pen to sign her name on the last page.

Coulson took the papers from her silently, arranging them back in his briefcase before pulling a small file from it and handing it to her. "Captain America's file, for your reference. Redacted for your security clearance, of course."

"I have a security clearance?" Darcy echoed, looking at the cover of the file. "I - thanks I guess? I mean, this isn't really a Captain America thing. My concern is basically Steve."

Coulson had that crooked grin again. "You'll be perfect, Lewis," he said, giving her a nod before leaving her alone in the lab.

* * *

She'd shoved the file into her bag, deciding to deal with that whole issue later. Instead, she found a blank notebook and went hunting for Steve. Given that half the tower was cut off to her due to whatever security clearance she didn't know she had, this actually took more time than expected, since she kept having to go down to the first floor to change elevators. Half an hour later, she finally found him, pounding the shit out of a punching bag in the basement. "We have a real gym, you know," she said, taking a seat on the edge of a table off to the side.

He looked over at her before giving the bag a more emphatic punch. "I know."

"Dodgers lose? Or is this about the whole L.A. thing? Because dude, you're going to have to get over that."

Steve turned from the bag, cracking a smile at that. "No, they won. Are the Cubs really cursed?"

Darcy nodded. "Something to do with a goat – don't ask," she said with a grin. "Not that I can say much, being a Reds fan, but at least we had the Big Red Machine. Yeah, you don't know what that means, I know. We'll get there," she added.

"Do you watch baseball?"

Darcy shrugged. "Ehh," she replied, drawing the sound out. "It's fun in person."

The silence stretched between them for a moment and Darcy could see Steve shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, as if he had no idea what to say to her. She fished her notebook from her bag and uncapped her pen. "Okay, so I've been nominated to play tour guide and get you up to speed on everything you've missed. Other than baseball, what do you like?"

"What?"

Darcy looked up from the page where she had been jotting down a few notes. "I'm not going to just sit there going over dates and names, that's boring as hell for both you and me. What do you like? I mean, we've got baseball, but there's bound to be other things you liked to do. They had movies and stuff back then, yeah? Uh, drawing a blank after that, not going to lie, but I'm sure I can think of other things my grandparents talked about if I need to come up with stuff."

Steve winced at that, although he hadn't quite gone back to that melancholy expression he'd been sporting for the past few weeks. "Uh, art. I like to sketch," he said.

Darcy smiled. "Great. Okay, so maybe a few trips to the museums. What else?"

"Movies are good," he added.

"Got it." Darcy said, jotting down a few more notes. "What else?"

"Well, the USO shows were always fun," he said, a small grin on his face.

Darcy couldn't help but smile back a bit, although she gave a self-deprecating laugh. "No clue what those were like, so I'm going to put Broadway down," she said. "You so do not fit the whole meathead mold – Art? Broadway? Are you just fucking with me?" she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably at that and Darcy realized he was reacting to her language. "I - sorry. You were in the army. I thought you'd be used to people dropping the F-bomb. Well, and you've dealt with Fury for a few weeks now."

That got a laugh out of him, although he seemed to be having an issue putting his thoughts into words. "Uh, not really women, though. Not that you need to stop talking how you like. Uh-"

Darcy laughed. "Sorry. Really. No promises, but I'll try to keep it clean for you, gramps."

He reddened a bit. "Please don't call me that."

Darcy gave a more genuine smile; he seemed to be getting more uncomfortable in her presence than less. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just teasing you. Kind of default mode for me." She recapped her pen, shoving it and the notebook in her bag. "Okay, so we'll hit the history highlights, see a few movies, listen to music. Maybe hit up a show or the museum once we clear a decade or so. Sound good?"

He nodded, still looking a touch uncertain.

"Cool. All right, 1945 tomorrow. Nine a.m.?"

He nodded again. "Sure, that sounds good."

Darcy hopped off the table she'd been perched on. "Great." It didn't exactly feel great. She had no idea what the hell she was doing. She'd seen that Qwik-Mart video. Coulson would murder her if she screwed this up. There wouldn't be anything left for Fury to deal with. She had a feeling she'd be Googling for at least half the night for this one.


	2. Chapter One: 1945

A/N: WOW – I really did not expect such a huge response. I am blown away by all the lovely reviews. I am so glad that you all enjoy this story so far. It's a blast to write, so it's great to see so many people enjoying it as well. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

* * *

Steve was already waiting for her when Darcy entered the small common area that was tucked away behind the cafeteria, instantly standing up to help her with the stack of DVDs, books, and her netbook that was towering precariously in her arms.

"Thanks," she said with a grin, setting most of the materials aside and booting up her computer on the coffee table. Steve had gone back to sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers on the armrest, although Darcy couldn't tell if it was from impatience or nervousness. "Sorry, give me a minute to get things situated," she said, clicking on one of the Andrews Sisters songs she had downloaded the night before. "Please enjoy the music while you wait."

Even if he didn't get her joke, Steve was smiling. "The Andrews Sisters. They were always pretty swell."

Darcy smiled back, making a mental note to cover slang at some point as well. She tossed an iPod over to him and he caught it before making a face at the small piece of equipment in his hand. "It's an iPod. I'll explain later. Basically it plays music. I'll show you how to work it, but I downloaded some music that you'd probably like."

"Thanks," he said absently, turning the device over in his hand as he looked it over.

Once she got everything connected between her computer and the television, Darcy took a seat next to him on the couch, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "Okay, so 1945 was not such a great year. Do you want the good stuff or the bad stuff first?"

He looked serious for a moment, setting the iPod down on the table. "The bad," he said quietly.

Darcy sighed. "I thought you'd say that." She fiddled with the remote in her hand for a moment. "I'm just going to hit the highlights. I can get you more info if you want it, but…" she trailed off. "All right, let's start with Europe."

Steve nodded. "I don't expect you to go over every battle, ma'am," he said, looking more concerned for her than anything.

Darcy shook her head. "Believe me, I won't. And don't call me ma'am." She grabbed a book off the table, passing it over to him.

"Anne Frank?" Steve echoed. "What does a diary have to do with the war?"

"You'll see," Darcy said quietly, starting one of the documentaries she'd downloaded.

Even though she'd seen footage from the Holocaust before, Darcy still had to look away a few times, clenching her jaw at some of the narrator's descriptions of the concentration camps. She snuck a few glances at Steve throughout the hour; he sat ramrod straight on the couch, looking as if he wanted to murder someone. She wasn't sure why Coulson had picked her for this. It was easy to make a joke about the Cubs or even the price of milk today, but things like the Holocaust – she still had a hard time processing the whole thing herself. How was she to explain it to Steve? How would she explain the JFK assassination? 9/11? She was only a few hours into her job and she already felt overwhelmed.

They both sat silently for a moment after it ended. "Anne Frank was just another victim, but she's very well known. She kept a diary while her family was in hiding, which her father published after he was liberated from one of the camps."

"She died?" Steve said, voice a bit choked, as if he had kept back tears.

Darcy simply nodded, taking a moment to fiddle with the programs on her computer. "As you can guess, the Holocaust is still, well, huge. We have a museum in D.C. and it's – it's not really something you can forget."

"I had no idea," Steve murmured, guilt creeping in at the end of his statement.

"That's not your fault," Darcy replied softly, wondering if perhaps she should read his file before trying to talk about a war he'd actually experienced. "Most didn't. We were in the dark about what was happening for a very long time." She paused, giving him time to collect himself. His knuckles were white from the grip he had on the book. "We did win the war in '45," she added. "Not that it's any consolation."

"No, not really," he said.

"I – here, let's finish up Europe. We still have the Pacific to deal with," she added, feeling completely out of her element. "FDR was voted in for another term – the only president to ever to have more than two. He passed away in '45, and Harry Truman took over for him. We had V-E Day in May, only about a month after FDR passed away from a stroke. Hilter committed suicide rather than surrender."

"Bastard," Steve muttered under his breath.

Darcy made a mental note to show him 'Inglorious Basterds' once she got him up to speed on things. She had a feeling he'd appreciate it. "You were there, so I didn't really think you needed a play by play of what the battles in '45 were like. I mean, I can go into more detail, if you want."

Steve shook his head. "No, I don't think they'd be much different."

Darcy sighed, cueing up another program on her computer. "The Pacific it is, then. V-J Day wasn't until August or September of that year. People count it differently because of the delay in signing papers and things."

"Not until then, really?"

Darcy frowned and shook her head. "Shit really hit the fan with Japan. This is another one of those things that's still a big deal today. So, uh, sorry," she said awkwardly before cueing up her program on the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

He took the documentary about as well as Darcy had expected – face drawn and mouth tight. Darcy felt like the punching bag in the basement was due to take another beating that night. She felt out of her element in even discussing the atomic bomb. Even now, there were people who insisted the country should have kept fighting, and others who insist the bombs were the only answer. While a small part of her was curious to see how Steve felt, she didn't want to press him for answers, particularly when they were questions she herself couldn't answer.

"So I'd show you 'Rodgers and Hammerstein's Carousel' now, but I absolutely cannot stand that show. We called it Caro-hell in high school."

Steve smiled slightly at that, although it didn't reach his eyes. "You did theater in school?"

Darcy nodded. "Well, not the on stage bit. More of the costumes and set stuff." She paused, wanting to try to lift his mood a bit. She felt guilty that she'd just dumped more things into his brain for him to feel terrible about, when he was probably still dealing with the whole waking up in the new millennium thing. After a moment she grinned widely. "So, let me tell you about that goat and the Cubs."

He laughed at that, and she regaled him with tales of the Cubs curse and the attempts to break it over the years – thanks, Google – not even needing to embellish it all that much. Goats were just funny.

"Okay, and now for your pop culture segment of today – what movie do you want to watch? We have Bing Crosby in 'Going My Way?'; that won best picture that year. 'Gaslight', if you want some old school 'Murder She Wrote' realness. Yeah, you don't know what that means yet, but trust me, Angela Lansbury's coming. Or Alfred Hitchcock's 'Lifeboat'. Please don't pick that one. 'The Birds' scared the shit out of me when I was eight. I really can't deal with Hitchcock," Darcy said, handing him the cases.

Steve grinned back. "You don't like scary movies?"

Darcy shook her head emphatically. "Hell, no. And for the record, I am not being paid enough for this to watch scary movies. I can deal with Hitchcock. We move on to 'Blair Witch' and 'The Ring' and I am done. Not enough hazard pay in the world."

"Well, we won't watch 'Lifeboat', then. Although it really doesn't sound scary. Did you read this?" Steve asked, holding up the back of the DVD case for her to see.

"You'd think that. It's Hitchcock though. That man is the king of creepy. I wouldn't put it past him to lie in the summary."

Steve laughed and set the movie aside, looking at the other two cases. He shrugged. "We can watch what you want."

Darcy made a face. "They all look terrible, don't they?"

"Uh-"

"I really had no idea what type of movies you'd want to watch. And I'm not really up on films from the 40s, so there's probably better ones you'd probably like, but I'm Googling blind here."

"This Google thing everyone keeps mentioning? I-"

"We'll get there. I have to explain the internet to you first," Darcy interrupted, smiling. "Really, I'm not just putting you off, but we'd be jumping like, a good fifty, sixty years ahead. And I don't want to break your brain. Well, not more than it already is," she teased.

He laughed at that and Darcy was pleased he hadn't taken her quip seriously. "Fine, I'll be patient. But you do still have to show me how to use this me-thing," he said to her, picking the iPod back up.

Darcy suppressed a laugh at that. "It's called an iPod. I'll give you the quick and dirty rundown, and then once we get caught up to the present day, I'll teach you how to change the music on it. You'll probably be sick of Bing and Glen by then, anyway."

"You bought me some Glen Miller records?" Steve said, brightening.

Darcy nodded, deciding she'd not bother trying to correct the whole record thing yet. Or introduce him to the seedy underbelly of illegal downloads. She was going to show him how to turn the iPod on when she had a better idea. "Oh, I had an idea for a movie. I think you'd like it. It's based on stuff that actually went on here during the war, although it was made later. Some of the stuff you probably won't get, since you don't know Madonna yet, but you like baseball," she rambled.

He laughed again. "You sure like to think out loud."

"Sign of genius," Darcy said with a grin. "We're going to watch a movie called 'A League of Their Own.' Did you know they had women's baseball leagues during the war?"

"Sure I did. Dum Dum would never shut up about this dame Rita – she played for the Chicago Colleens."

"Excellent," Darcy replied. She had no idea who Dum Dum was, or why someone would put up with a nickname like Dum Dum to begin with, but she wasn't going to ask. not when she had just gotten Steve smiling again. "Let me introduce you to one of my _favorite_ movies. I'm just going to apologize ahead of time – I'm a talker. Can't shut up, even during movies."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Oh, shut up. I promise not to spoil anything."

"You've been popping up, saying 'spoiler alert' for the last three days."

"Well that's just funny. Your face when I told you it costs four bucks for a gallon of milk was priceless."

Steve shook his head. "That's just not right. I still think you're making that up."

"Okay, so we'll take a field trip to 7-Eleven after this and then I can introduce you to Slurpees, the greatest invention in beverage history. Well, other than booze."

"It's a deal," Steve said with a smile.

Steve actually seemed to enjoy the movie. Darcy kept sneaking looks at him from the corner of her eye, pleased to see him laughing at all the right parts. He only seemed mildly annoyed when she said "There's no crying in baseball!" right along with Tom Hanks and put up with her need to commentate some of her favorite scenes. He was still smiling at the end of it and Darcy hoped that she had managed to distract him from the heavy stuff she had told him earlier.

She was surprised how quickly he picked up working the iPod. She had expected teaching him technology to be more like dealing with her mom, who still had issues figuring out how to turn on a computer sometimes. She gave him a docking station to take home with him, so he could play some tunes doing whatever he did in his free time – a zillion pushups, she guessed, by the size of his arms. Steve was easily picking songs on the first go, fiddling with the buttons before she even finished explaining how it worked. "Is it a guy thing? Why does no guy ever wait to get the directions?"

He grinned at her and then turned back to looking at the playlist, noting some of his favorite songs that were on there. "I'm more of a hands-on person."

Darcy bit back the dirty joke that she normally would have made at that, guessing it probably would have gone over just about as well as profanity. "Well, we've hit all the highlights I've planned and I have some time before I have to leave for class, so I'm game for that field trip if you are."

"We really don't have to. I believe you about the milk."

Darcy couldn't tell if he was hesitating or if he really just wasn't interested. She stood up, loading her laptop and some of the DVDs back into her bag. "Yeah, but you haven't had a Slurpee. That's practically un-American. We can't have that, Captain," she replied.

He took her teasing better this time, standing up from the couch. He gave her a good-natured grin. "Lead on, Sacajawea."

"We really need to teach you some new slang," Darcy commented, leaning down to grab the strap from her bag.

Steve grabbed it before she could. "I've got this, ma'am – Darcy," he corrected.

Darcy laughed at his quick correction and then held out her hand. "No really, it's fine. It's my school bag. It's not even heavy."

Steve shook his head. "My mother would kill me if I didn't."

"My second-wave mom would kill _me_ if I didn't," Darcy countered. He didn't immediately hand her bag back, so she sighed. "Fine, you can carry it. But I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own bag, for the record."

He looked a bit puzzled. "I never said you couldn't."

Darcy shrugged. "Some women are picky about the whole doing things for themselves bit. You'll understand better once we get to the whole feminism thing."

"Feminism? I thought women had the right to vote. They didn't take that away, did they?" Steve asked, looking somewhat worried.

Darcy laughed. "No, no. Sorry. No, there was a big movement for women to be able to work, be paid the same as men. Other stuff. I can explain all of that more when we get there. We never had our voting rights taken away," she reassured him.

"Good," he said with a decisive nod.

Darcy still felt a bit naked, not carrying her bag, but it didn't seem like she was going to win this argument, so she let it go for the time being. "Okay, so there's a 7-Eleven in Midtown not far from us – a few blocks, maybe? Brace yourself. It's going to be awesome," she said with a grin.

They chatted about the movie on the way to the store, and Darcy noted that Steve seemed to be a little more comfortable with the city than she had expected. Perhaps he had been out more than Coulson had thought. Or perhaps New York had always been busy and it was just the taller buildings and crazy lights that had changed since the '40s. Still, he seemed more at home in the busy streets than she had expected, easily weaving his way through crowds on the sidewalk. He really did seem to like the movie as well, which made Darcy happy that she had guessed right.

When they entered the 7-Eleven, Darcy wordlessly pointed to the refrigerator cases of milk with the price stickers clearly visible before continuing back to the Slurpee station. "Ooh, they have Cherry Limeade. This is my lucky day," she said happily.

"So it's like a milkshake?" Steve asked, looking at the frozen mixture she was currently filling the cup with.

Darcy shook her head. "No dairy. More like a frozen soda," she explained. Steve ended up picking the plain Coke flavor, which Darcy thought was a bit uninspired. She laughed as he attempted to fill the cup and quickly had issues with it overflowing. She handed him a wad of napkins to clean up the mess before it got too sticky. "It comes out fast."

He shot her a slightly dirty look. "Thanks for the warning."

Darcy giggled and then made her way up to the counter. Before she could pull her wallet out of her pocket, Steve was already handing the cashier a few bills. She shook her head at him. "Dude, I was going to get that."

Steve shrugged. "Sorry," he said, as he opened the door for her. Darcy sighed and exited. He didn't look very sorry.

"I need to check in with Jane back at the lab before I head to class. But that can wait if you have any questions. I'm sort of winging this whole history thing," she confessed to him as they walked back. "So if there's something you want to know about or you don't get or whatever, please give me a heads up."

Steve seemed amused more than anything at her run-on sentences as she blurted out anything that was in her head. "I think you're doing fine," he said to her.

Darcy sighed and gave him a relieved grin. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

"Good," she said decisively. "So, what do you think of the amazing Slurpee?" she asked after a moment.

"It's not bad," he said.

"Not bad? _Not bad_. Really. I bring you frozen, soda-y goodness from the future and the best you can say is 'not bad'?"

"Well, it's no egg cream."

"I don't know what that is, but it sounds disgusting."

Steve grinned at her. "We'll take a field trip out to Brooklyn some time. You'll like it," he said.

Darcy shot him a dubious look.

He opened the door to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main tower for her, giving a courteous nod to the security guard behind the desk. It took Darcy a minute to fumble with her wallet, finally finding her ID card to flash the guy behind the desk. While everyone seemed to know Steve in like, three days flat, she was still persona non grata here after almost a year. Not that she really minded. She and Jane weren't really the super spy type. "I have morning class tomorrow. What's a good time to meet?" she asked him as they waited for the elevator.

"Would two work? I have a briefing at eleven and I'm not sure how long it will go," Steve said.

Darcy nodded. "Here, let me give you my number. You can call me or text me if it looks like you'll be stuck there," she said. She paused. "Wait, do you even know how to do that?"

"Who had the music pod down on the first try? I have a handle on these tiny phones," Steve replied.

Darcy fought the laugh that bubbled up. Steve may have gotten the basics down, but he was as bad as a Weasley in remembering technology names. Darcy was just waiting for him to start talking about 'ekeltricity' and plugs. "All right. I'll see you tomorrow then," she said with a smile, holding her hand out for her bag. He gave it back to her and she hopped on the elevator that would take her up to Jane's floor. Once the door closed, she sighed and leaned back against the wall, taking a long sip of her Slurpee.

When the elevator doors opened, she was still leaning against the wall, eyes half closed as she took another long drink.

"Spiking your Slurpee again?" Jane asked, looking over her shoulder from the computer where she was running some program.

Darcy shook her head, throwing herself into the seat next to her. "I wish," she said.

"How did your first day go?"

Darcy shrugged. "Good, I think. How's the hunt for the research assistant, part deux going?"

Jane pulled a face. "I don't like it."

"I know, but we both know that I can't really help you with the important, science-y stuff."

"You've picked up a lot," Jane said defensively.

Darcy gave her a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Jane. Really. But it would be good for you to have someone who can tell you if you're doing the Gross Pita equation right."

"Gross-Pitaevskii," Jane corrected.

"See," Darcy said, gesturing with her Slurpee. "Besides, if you have someone else to talk genius with, maybe you won't have to deal with Tony Stark so much."

Jane groaned a bit at that. "You have a point. That man – "

Darcy laughed. "I know, right? So if you find someone to help you..."

"We'll see. Maybe there will be more applicants."

"Have you even interviewed anyone?"

"No, I just-"

"Jane, give them a try. Have a few interviews. I'll even sit in with you if you want."

Jane brightened a bit at that. "You would?"

Darcy nodded, taking another sip from her Slurpee. "Sure."

"I'm not very good at interviewing."

"I know."

"Hey!" Jane protested.

Darcy shrugged, grinning. "Just calling it as I see it."

"Eric always handled those sorts of things for me," Jane added, her voice softer.

"He'll be back," Darcy said reassuringly.

Jane didn't respond immediately, turning to fiddle with a few settings on the program she was running. "Story of my life," she muttered under her breath.

Darcy's phone beeped and she quickly shut off the reminder. Standing, she hoisted her bag and picked up her Slurpee from the desk. "Put the resumes on my desk that Coulson gave you and I'll set up some interviews. I'm off to class, but I'll be back this afternoon to work on that report on the new models you're running. Don't forget to eat lunch," she reminded Jane.

"Yes, mom," Jane replied dryly, still staring at the computer screen and writing a few notes in the notebook in front of her.

Darcy hopped back into the elevator, punching the button emphatically. She took another long draw of the Slurpee, helping her ears pop as the elevator dropped quickly down to the main floor. She nearly ran into Coulson as she exited. "Cap's cool. Make sure S.H.I.E.L.D. reimburses him for the Slurpees. They were for educational purposes," she said quickly, making her way to the door. Behind her, she could hear Coulson laugh and Darcy shook her head. Sign of the apocalypse, for sure.

* * *

A/N: The Gross Pita/Goss-Pitaevskii equation gag isn't mine – LJC used it first in the fantastic fic "Simple, Not Easy." I really recommend you all check it out.

Thank you again for the wonderful beta work, KeitorinNara and You May Call Me Goddess – Bitch Goddess!


	3. Chapter Two: 1946

It was a sign that her new job had eaten her brain, because instead of goofing on Facebook while her professor droned on about the differences between common and preferred stock (damn you, required general education credits), Darcy found herself looking up historical factoids and adding movies to her Netflix queue. She had always found history interesting, at least the human interest bits. This job with Steve, when it wasn't stressing her out how to talk about the really shitty things that happened, didn't feel too much like a job at all. If she could work in being paid to watch BBC period dramas and try out all of New York's awesome restaurants, it'd pretty much be her dream job. She'd have to see if she could get Steve to admit to some latent foodie tendencies. Coulson seemed to have a giant man crush on him and Darcy was pretty sure that if she told him that Steve wanted to eat at Le Bernadin, Coulson would give her a blank check.

The professor's lecture wound down and Darcy started packing up all her materials. She'd just Wikipedia the whole stock thing later. It really couldn't be that difficult - she hoped. Darcy hoisted her bag over her shoulder, grabbing her thermos of coffee as she made her way out of the lecture hall. When she turned, she nearly bumped into one of her classmates. "Hey, Alex."

"'Lo. Movies from '40s? You taking a film class?" Alex asked. She sat directly behind Darcy in the lecture hall.

Darcy shook her head at the blonde. "No, just interested. You know how that whole Wikipedia article time suck happens," she half-lied.

Alex laughed. "Tell me about it. An hour later, and you've read the articles for every member of the royal family for the past twenty years. I'm grabbing lunch, now. Want to come?"

Darcy shook her head again. "Can't. Have to get back to work."

"I still don't understand how you have a science position. You hate science."

"Yup," Darcy agreed. "But Jane's a friend. And it's paid. Ish."

Alex shrugged. "Suit yourself. You still coming to the show Thursday?"

"Wouldn't miss it. How much do you think I'll need to drink beforehand?"

"Not enough booze in the world to make Josh's band sound good," Alex replied, laughing again. "We deserve a medal."

"National heroes," Darcy replied with a nod. "See you Thursday," she added, giving her a small wave as she turned to make her way out of the building. Alex waved back and Darcy briskly made her way to the subway entrance. She had a bit of time to kill, but it was generally easier to try to be early, since the subway always managed to find a way to fuck her when it could. She could grab something to eat at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cafeteria and if she really had time to kill, go bug Jane about interviews again.

The cafeteria was serving some sort of inedible looking pizza and sad looking cheeseburgers. Darcy decided to opt for the burger, although it was basically a 'Sophie's Choice' at that point. She made a mental note to try to bring up food with Steve that afternoon, since the cafeteria food was probably going to kill her before they made it to 1963. She'd even settle for Chik-Fil-A over Le Bernadin at this point. Once she swiped her card and picked up her tray, she scanned for somewhere to sit, spotting Steve's head sitting at a table alone.

"Yo." She set her tray down at the table across from him, wrinkling her nose at his tray. He'd picked the pizza, and it looked to be doing its best impression of the Wicked Witch of the West – melting. "That looks vile."

Steve smiled a greeting at her. "It is. But better than field rations."

"Ew. Canned cheese."

"Indeed."

"You have a point," Darcy replied while peeking under the bun of her sandwich. "Your meeting get out early?"

Steve shook his head, opting to eat the canned peaches rather than the pizza on his plate. "Canceled. Fury and Coulson took off for parts unknown. Tapper told me it would be rescheduled."

"You get to play hooky then. That's fun," she commented, pulling the wilted lettuce off her sandwich, along with a suspicious looking tomato. He was frowning and she decided to revise her statement. "Unless you want to go play badass dude who does badass secret things. Bummer," she said with what she hoped was believable sincerity.

He shook his head and reluctantly laughed at that, still grinning as he took another bite of the pizza. Darcy was impressed he was actually able to chew it, since it seemed to be busy trying to change states of matter. "You're terrible."

"This _food_ is terrible. I don't know how you're eating that," Darcy commented, giving up on her burger and moving on to the semi-wilted salad. He shrugged and took another bite of his pizza, and Darcy rolled her eyes. Clearly subtlety wasn't working. "Don't you miss real food? I'm sure you miss _something_ you ate back in the day, when dinosaurs roamed the land."

Steve's face did light up a bit in memory, and Darcy's hopes rose. He would claim some craving for something that would give her the excuse to hit up Coulson for lunch money. "Yeah. Nathan's hot dogs from Coney Island. Those were the best dogs – you think they still have those?"

As quickly as they rose, Darcy's hopes came crashing down again. She'd have to keep subsisting on the vending machines and whatever fruit she could steal from the conference room tables. At least they managed to keep the vending machines stocked with decent Pop-Tart flavors. Realizing she hadn't immediately responded, Darcy nodded, wrinkling her nose a bit at the soggy lettuce she was trying to spear with her fork. "Yup, still around. They even have a contest every year who can eat the most," she told him.

Steve looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "_Really_?"

Darcy laughed a bit at that, giving up on attacking her lettuce. "Really," she confirmed dryly. "Don't even think about entering, you ringer."

"How many did the last guy eat?"

Darcy couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. She shrugged and dug out her phone from her bag, taking a moment to Google the record. "A Japanese guy used to have the record, but I'm pretty sure an American won it back. Yup. Joey Chestnut. Sixty-two hot dogs and buns in ten minutes."

"Wow," Steve said, a bit awed.

"Gross," Darcy replied. "Right up there with this cafeteria food," she added, trying to work her way back into conning Steve into declaring his love for French cuisine.

"I wonder how many I could eat that quickly," Steve mused. Darcy mentally threw her hands up in frustration.

"Why don't you hang a few posters, have a contest with some of the other agents?" she suggested. "It could be fun. Barton could give you a real run for your money – that man could down pancakes like no other back in New Mexico."

"You think people would actually do it?" Steve said, sounding for all the world like a kid who usually got picked last in gym.

"Absolutely," Darcy said. Most of the agents were men and no matter how cool they tried to play super spy, Darcy figured they were still basically dudes. Food and an ability to whip their dick out over how much they could eat would be right up their alley. "I'll run it by Coulson and send out an email. Want me to Google a training plan for you?" she teased.

Steve shook his head, grinning. "Nah. I got this," he said. He had started doodling hot dogs and buns on his napkin with a spare pen. Darcy snagged the napkin, holding it up to look at his doodles.

"This is cute. You weren't kidding about art. I'm going to borrow this," she said.

Steve shrugged. "I went to art school. Nothing special."

"Wait, you went to art school. Back up the truck," Darcy commanded. "What'd you go to school for?"

"Illustrating," he replied.

"Huh," Darcy said. She gave up on her food and took a big swig of her soda, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. She would definitely be snagging some fruit later. "You are not at all what I expected. Like, no offense."

He gave her a wry smile. "So is '46 a better year than '45?" he asked, clearly changing the subject.

Darcy went with it. "I think so. I mean, it's post-war, so we're still cleaning up that mess but there are some good things, too. Like bikinis."

"Bikinis?"

"New type of bathing suit that went on sale. Pretty much what everyone wears now. Well, women. Not much variation you can do to a men's suit, other than the length. Oh, I _so_ should have told you dudes wear banana hammocks now."

"You're doing that thing again, where none of the words coming out of your mouth make sense," Steve told her, a hint of humor in his voice.

"A picture is worth a thousand words," Darcy replied, tapping away at her phone to bring up some pictures of bikinis. She held it up to show him, scrolling through four or five pictures. "Bikinis. Ta da."

Steve choked on the sip of water he just took. "_That's_ what women wear to the beach these days?" His eyes drifted down to her chest for a moment, before quickly darting away to look at some spot above her head. Darcy bit back a laugh as his ears turned red.

"Yup. We can take a trip out to the beach if you'd like to see the bikini in its natural habitat. For educational purposes, obviously," she said.

"Uh, no that's all right," Steve replied, still not quite looking at her.

Darcy took a final large swig of her soda before standing and grabbing her tray. "Okay, I'm officially calling it on this food. I just can't do it. You done?"

He stood, taking her tray with his to dump it. Darcy decided not to even bother, although she quickly slung her bag over her shoulder so she could carry it herself. He came back over to the table tossing her an orange that he had managed to snag from somewhere, which Darcy fumbled and nearly dropped.

"I was a real asset in gym," she said dryly.

Steve laughed. "Next time I'll just hand it to you."

"Probably a good idea. And thanks," she said. He must have noticed her fruit stealing habit. He held the door for her and they made their way down the hall to the common area Darcy had basically laid claim to. With its close proximity to the cafeteria, it wasn't really in great demand to begin with, but Darcy still decided to count it as getting one over the jackbooted thugs. It took her a few moments to set up her computer and set aside the books and DVDs she had brought for this. Steve snagged one of her school books, reading the back cover.

"You go to college, right?"

Darcy nodded, not looking up from where she was typing in the six different access codes needed to even hook her computer up to the wireless internet. "Yup. NYU."

"What class is this for?" he asked, gesturing with 'Symbolism and Syllogism in Pre-Raphaelite Art.'

"Art History," Darcy said, glancing up to look at the cover. "Gen Ed. credit."

"So you're not an artist?"

Darcy laughed at that. "Far from it. I'm more of an education bum. I just really like learning. Keep changing my major since I can't figure out what I want to do. I try to pick interesting classes for my general education requirements, although that sometimes gets me in trouble. I spent a whole semester down the rabbit hole of urban and regional planning because of that. Anyway. Um, I'm currently a political science and international diplomacy major."

"So you want to be an ambassador?" Steve asked after a moment, clearly thinking about her major.

Darcy shook her head. "No. Well, maybe. It would be a cool job. But I don't know. It seems a bit political, getting picked for those types of things. And I don't know if I'd be good at it. I just think it's cool finding out how other countries do things, why they get along and why they sometimes don't. I like learning about it, but I don't think I'm really cut out for doing it, if that makes sense?"

Steve nodded. "Sometimes things are better in theory than in practice."

"Exactly," Darcy agreed. She took a seat next to him on the couch, fiddling with her mouse. "Okay, so we've covered bikinis and what they _don't_ cover."

"Ha, ha," Steve said dryly.

"So now we're on to some of the more serious stuff. In post-war news, the Japanese general who led the Bataan Death March was executed. The Nuremberg Trials also started. I've got a decent documentary on that," she commented, pulling up the program on Netflix. "Thank you, PBS."

"PBS?"

"I'll explain later."

"You always say that."

"Patience, grasshopper," Darcy said.

Steve seemed to deal with this documentary better than the programs she showed him the day before, although that was no surprise. She figured justice was a bit more palatable than springing the death of millions on him. She had been relieved to find that '46 had been a better year after she had started her research. Although she remembered quite a bit of history from school, she was finding out all sorts of things once she started looking for specific years.

"I'm surprised they had trials," Steve commented, once the program was done.

"I think they were trying to be fair," Darcy replied, not wanting to bring up the criticism she had discovered when researching the issue. It seemed too close to Steve to truly discuss. In history classes in school, it was easy to discuss events long past and debate the motivations and actions of people. For Steve, he didn't have that distance and perspective. Darcy wasn't sure how far she could truly push.

"Hm."

"Another cool thing that started in '46 was Project Diana, which started the whole space age thing. Which is going to blow your mind," Darcy told him with a bit of glee.

"I feel I should be worried, the way you're grinning," Steve told her, but he was smiling.

"We bounced radar waves off the moon to determine the distance between the Earth and the Moon. Spoiler alert – we totally sent people to the moon."

Steve looked at her openmouthed once again. "Are you serious?"

"Yup," Darcy nodded enthusiastically. "Took a bit, but we totally did it. You are going to _love_ the sixties."

"Can't you just show me a little bit now?" Steve asked.

Darcy shook her head. "Nope. You have to wait. No skipping ahead."

"But we watched that movie the other day – it wasn't from the forties," Steve protested.

Darcy waved his protest away. "Details, details. I'm the boss, I make the rules."

"You really enjoyed saying that," Steve commented, giving her another grin.

"Damn straight."

Darcy minimized the documentary on her laptop and looked back at Steve. She had downloaded some songs from 1946 for him. She had even given them a spin the night before. It didn't do much for her – Big Band could be fun from time to time, but she was definitely looking forward to rock and roll hitting the playlists.

"Do you have your iPod? I have some more music for you," she said, holding out her hand.

Steve dug it from his pocket and handed it to her. "Gee, that's nice of you, Darcy."

Darcy shrugged. "It really only takes a few clicks of the mouse, Steve. I didn't have to leave my couch or change my pajamas to do it. It's no big deal."

"Well, I still appreciate it," he told her.

"I have a few movies for your pop culture segment as well," Darcy told him, changing the subject. "The best one that won the Oscar that year will have to wait, though. 'It's a Wonderful Life' is strictly a Christmas movie. Like, part of the Lewis Christmas canon, right there. So, I'm going to give you the DVD, but you have to promise to wait until at least November to watch this one. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Steve told her, giving her another grin.

She slapped his shoulder, which felt like a brick wall, and tried not to wince. "Oh, shut up you. Anyway, your movie choices are pretty limited. There's 'Henry V' with Lawrence Olivier, which seems a bit of a snooze to be honest, but I could manage it. 'The Yearling,' which you will watch on your own. Animal movies make me bawl and I am not crying at work, if I can help it. There's also 'The Best Years of Our Lives,' but I'm not sure if you'll want to watch that one," she said, trailing off.

"Why?" he asked, suddenly looking more wary.

"Well," she said slowly. "It's about soldiers coming home from the war. I don't know – we can always watch something else. I'll even pull up the moon landing if you want," she added, after seeing his face sober. The good humor from before seemed to fade.

"I don't know if I feel like a movie today," Steve replied quietly. He picked up the iPod from where she had set it on the table. "Thanks again for the music," he added, and stood.

"Oh, okay," Darcy replied, unsure what to say. He left the room without much of a goodbye, and she sat back against the couch, wondering exactly where things had gone wrong. Coulson was probably going to kill her.


End file.
